Page 138

Most of the nave had lost its roof, and weeds grew between the stones. The outer walls still stood, providing enough privacy for a meeting without making the place difficult to approach.

It was the sort of location where two men could see each other coming from a distance.

Sir Oswin Harcourt arrived shortly after noon with one servant.

I considered that encouraging. Oswin was seventy-one and had spent twenty-six years serving as one of the King's justices.

During that time, he'd sat on three commissions investigating corruption among powerful noblemen.

Two investigations had resulted in convictions.

The third had ended his career.

He'd refused to change his findings to please the men involved, and he'd spent the following eleven years living quietly at a small manor outside Southwell.

I respected him considerably more than most men still serving the Crown.

He studied me for a moment before turning his attention to Robin.

"You've placed yourself in a difficult position, Bisbane."

"I've noticed."

"There's a proclamation in Southwell market naming you a traitor and accusing you of murdering the King's soldiers."

"There are several more just like it."

"And the woman beside you?"

"My mate."

Oswin looked at me.

Then at Robin.

Then back at me.

"Good God."

Robin smiled pleasantly.

"I've been getting that reaction quite a lot."

Oswin lowered himself onto a fallen stone pillar.

"Well, I suppose that explains a few things."

He accepted the documents and began reading.

For the next half hour, he said very little.

I let him take his time.

Oswin had never been a man who rushed through evidence, which was one of the reasons I'd come to him.

Eventually, he looked up.

"Osbert Crane."